


Attention

by ZomBrie



Series: Ghosts of Sinner's Past [6]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Gen, Gender Neutral, Other, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, alucard has a biological female form in this, cause my queer ass is all about his shape shifting ass, yer goddamn right lady alucard is a tall gorgeous forty something year old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:06:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZomBrie/pseuds/ZomBrie
Summary: While infiltrating a banquet, maintaining the illusion quickly becomes a herculean task when your partner doesn't want to play by the rules[Alucard/Gender Neutral Reader]





	Attention

General 98: “Not sure if you could tell, but I’m not exactly a people person.”

“You didn’t have to be such an ass, ya know...”

“The fact that he even bothered to approach warranted my reaction.”

The man in question is a young twenty-something who obviously comes from a background of wealth, what with his form-fitting refinery being cut from a crushed velvet, the shade a soft yet rich black, and the lapels and other trimmings as glossy as his oxfords. He’s handsome enough in your opinion. There’s a roundness to his jaw left over from adolescence yet there’s a sort of college age maturity around his brown eyes; he’s cradling a coupe of bubbling, golden champagne so he’s gotta at least be of legal drinking age- though you’re willing to bet that laws and other legalities are often bent to accommodate this crowd of greed and privilege.

“He only wanted a dance, though.” You mumble around a sigh.

Your companion’s red eyes slide your way before She merely scoffs in response.

Your vision follows the retreating silhouette of the young man, his head hanging low while his feet drag along the polished tile. The way his eyes tended to wander, or rather _appraise_ as if he were inspecting trade goods and not talking to a person, isn’t lost on you but even still a fraction of your conscience goes out to him. He’s not predatory per say, just... very privileged.

“It’s not like he was being a creep about it.”

The vampire draws in a lungful of breath. “ **In case you couldn’t tell, revenant, I’m not exactly a people person** , and there is no way that that boy ‘only wanted a dance’.”

Now that you can’t necessarily disagree with, however you can’t blame the young man either. See no matter the occasion or situation Alucard always tends to stick out from the crowd, whether it’s the imposing profile He cuts due to His monumental height or the sheer miasmic capacity of His ancient power, either way He never fails to snatch everybody’s eye. Even now, in a form that maintains a traditionally feminine shape, He- or rather _She_ , gotta keep up the illusion after all- is an attention gatherer.

The cashmere of Her dress is such a luxurious burgundy that not only does it look incredibly soft to the touch (not to mention expensive) it also makes the pallor of Her skin milk white; the plunging neckline draws the eye to Her modest bust, and it elongates the length of Her throat, while the skirt smooths out the roundness of Her hips. With long black curls tumbling down the small of Her back and Her lips painted a deep, dark rouge, it’s no wonder if that young man’s intentions were a tad more... intimate than one mere dance.

Heaven knows that your thoughts aren’t exactly chaste right now either.

“Regardless, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves,” you glance at Alucard through your peripheral, “and no doubt some of these boujee idiots heard the verbal abuse you just gave to that kid.”

The corner of Her lips curl a fraction, a subtle gesture that you would’ve otherwise missed were it not for the fact that you’ve begun to notice Her body’s involuntary reactions.

“Save your worrying for someone else, revenant. I have no need nor any desire for it.” She growls lowly.

You roll your eyes and hiss under your breath: “I’m not worried about you, asshole! I’m worried about blowing our cover!”

It occurs to you a second too late that maybe your statement wasn’t as quiet as you think when you notice some banquet attenders are staring at the two of you, and not even remotely trying to be discreet about it. The wind is immediately sucked out of your sails, clearing the dryness from your throat with a cough into your fist, and you hope that perhaps it’s the odd, mismatched paring you and Alucard make that’s catching their attention.

It’s just as likely an excuse, after all.

Probably.

A single exhale of air rushes through Her nose and in that moment your passive aggressive ass decides to put all of the blame of the staring entirely on Her and Her way too tight dress.

Then, in the ballroom where a crowd has gathered into a mass of lustrous silk and glittering jewels, the orchestra begins plucking their nylon strings and you become possessed in a moment of brave insanity.

You take a step towards the glistering cacophony and offer Her the crook of your elbow with a polite smirk. She in turn regards you with the slightest of sneers curling Her upper lip, yet another instinctual reaction that you’ve noticed as your partnership marches (more like shambles) on. “May I have this dance, Countess De Ville?”

...yeah, Alucard really should’ve chosen a better alias. It’s a little too on the nose for your comfort.

“We gotta blend in anyways,” you continue with a one-shoulder shrug, “and I promise I won’t try to get fresh.”

She scoffs under Her breath. “Do you know how to dance? Are you even classically trained?”

Nope.

“Mr. Holmward taught me a thing or two.”

Not even a little- well, unless you can include watching the old man waltz with his sweetheart, Mr. Morris, after a glass or two of amber whiskey and imported cigars. Which, to be frank, you actually don’t think that that counts but your pettiness knows no bounds, and you’re more than willing to potentially embarrass yourself just to prove to Alucard that _She’s_ the attention whore here!

In the background you hear the brass section gradually slide in to the crescendo and you level your companion with an arched brow.

“I swear on my granddaddy’s grave that I won’t try anything.”

Perhaps you’ve just uttered the magic word(s) for the shape-shifting vampire straightens Her spine until She towers over you with Her impressive height, thus causing Her shoulders to lay back and Her bust to arch forward, and the grin that slips across Her lips stretches a little too far beyond human limitations.

It’s as She loops Her arm around yours that you realize something, a little factor that you didn’t take into consideration when formulating this revenge-fueled cockamamie plan. Alucard _might_ know how to dance, even classically.

“Very well then.” The “countess” purrs, “your lead, revenant.”

Your mouth suddenly feels dry.

**Author's Note:**

> a/u: ain't gonna lie, this probably won't be the last we'll see of lady alucard cause i'm a useless homo and murray/reader/"you" are pan af in this. also i picture lady alucard as being a blend of anjelica huston's morticia addams and vampira- dark, sultry, alluring, and likes to wear tight dresses. give this fic some kudos and leave a comment if you enjoyed it, and i'll catch you cool cats next time! ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)


End file.
